


The Price

by MrProphet



Category: Pilgrim - Fandom
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-22
Updated: 2017-04-22
Packaged: 2018-10-22 14:53:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,117
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10699308
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MrProphet/pseuds/MrProphet





	The Price

After twenty-one days of rain, the waters of the Severn were rising fast and the emergency services were at full stretch trying to contain it. When word came that the largest tidal bore in living memory was racing into the estuary, panic struck.

Sally Struan was only a PCSO, but she was also the only person near enough to see the man who stole the police launch. Everyone else was busy evacuating houses and trying to prevent a riot. Then man didn't look dangerous; not to anyone but himself, and so she ran out along the almost-swamped jetty and jumped onto the back of the launch. Her feet slithered beneath her at the last moment and she fell headlong into the bottom of the boat.

She struggled to her feet and faced the thief. "Turn this boat around, sir," she said with as much authority as she could muster after an embarrassing fall.

"I'm afraid I can't do that," the man replied apologetically.

"You'll be killed," she warned. "There's a bore coming."

"I know."

"Do you also know that because of the rain and the shift in the Gulf Stream and the full moon, it's going to be the largest and most destructive bore ever?" she asked.

"It'll be bad all right; but not the worst ever, and not because of the rain or the moon or the Gulf Stream. Hafren hasn't been this angry since 1785."

"Sir, you'll be killed," she warned again.

He turned and gave a small smile. "Little risk of that," he assured her. "Anyway, it's my fault, really. I should have kept in touch better; didn't know Peter Manouth had died without an heir."

Sally bristled. "What do you mean? How did you know Peter"

"Friend of the family." In the middle of the stream, the man stopped the boat. "Old friend of the family. You?"

"He and I... I'm taking this boat back."

He shook his head. "I wouldn't try if I were you. You hit your head when you fell." He turned and clambered down onto the prow of the boat. "Not sure it would be safe." He stood at the prow and took a knife out of his pocket.

Sally felt a crawling fear knot her stomach. "What are you doing?" she asked.

The man didn't respond. He drew the blade of the knife across his palm and then threw the knife into the river. "Hafren; I offer you blooded steel." He dug his injured hand into the other pocket of his coat and drew out a fistful of rings and pearls. "Hafren; I offer you blooded treasure," he declared and then he threw that into the river as well. "Hafren; will you hear me."

In the darkness beyond him, a greater darkness moved; the towering shadow of the Severn bore. The roar of the water filled Sally's ears and she put her head down, gripping the railing of the boat as the water crashed towards them. The roar seemed to stretch out forver and then...

And then Sally realised that the bore had not hit. She looked up and saw that, impossibly, the tidal wave had stopped, less than a foot from the bow. It hung there, a tower of water more than three metres high.

"Speak."

Sally's heart shuddered in alarm as the voice spoke, it seemed, from the wave itself. The voice held the thunder of the wave, but she was sure it was the voice of a little girl.

"Hafren; I come to make the offering agreed long ago," the man said.

The voice spoke again, angry and petulant. "The offering was denied to me, William Palmer! The promised price was not paid!"

"There was an accident," William Palmer replied in a conciliatory tone. "The custodian was killed; he died without an heir to take over, but he had the offering ready to give." He reached a third time into his pocket and held up a large arm-ring that shone silver in the storm-shrouded moonlight. "The white ring, promised to you by Maddan in recompense for his mother's crime."

"Is my death still to be paid for in trinkets?" the voice demanded.

"It is the price promised and agreed."

Sally found her voice at last. "What...?" she managed.

Palmer glanced around at her. "Long ago, a princess named Gwendolen married the King of Britain," he explained, "but the king was in love with someone else. Gwendolen waged war on her husband, defeated him, and had her rival, Estrildis, and Estrildis's daughter Hafren thrown in the river which ever-after bore the daughter's name.

"But Estrildis was the most beautiful woman in Britain and her daughter lovelier still," he went on.

"Then surely she wasn't..." Sally began, but Palmer shushed her urgently.

"One of the Grey Folk fell in love with the daughter and made her into the spirit of the river, as which she wreaked her vengeance until Emrys helped Gwendolen's son Maddan bargain with her. She promised not to flood the land or sink ships, so long as each year an offering - a silver ring - was cast into the river. 

"A custodian was appointed to ensure the paying of the price, but every so often, something goes wrong; the price gets forgotten and someone has to find a new custodian. The last few times it's been me; in 1425, in 1612 and 1785."

"What?"

"Will you take the price, Hafren, or break your bargain?" Palmer demanded.

"Very well," the river huffed.

Palmer drew back his arm and cast the ring into the water. At once, the bore began to retreat and even the rain drizzled to a halt. Palmer breathed a sigh of relief.

"What would have happened if she refused?"

"She would have dragged us under and then been consumed by her treachery. The Grey Folk keep their bargains, on pain of death."

"But we'd have been dead?"

"Well, you would," he replied. "I can't die."

Sally shook her head. "But this is nonsense! There's no..."

"Stop!" Palmer snapped. "Really; don't ever say that in places where they can hear you. That's what I did." He dropped back into the cabin and started the boat for shore. "Besides. You saw and heard; can you honestly deny that?"

She shook her head sadly.

"You knew Peter?" he asked.

Saly nodded sadly. "We were... I mean, we were going to be engaged, but he never had the chance."

Palmer eyed her for a long moment. "Would you be willing to take his place?" he asked. "Deliver the price every year; find someone to follow you?"

"I..." Denial died on her lips. "Yes," she agreed. "But I don't know..."

"I'll teach you," he promised. "You'll do well."


End file.
